In affluent parts of the north of England, such as York, people are healthier than in deprived southern towns. Photograph: Christopher Thomond for the Guardian

The north-south divide is getting worse, according to new figures from the Office of National Statistics. Life expectancy for men in the south-east of England is nearly 80, but for those in Scotland it is closer to 75. The figures for women are less extreme, but there are still disparities. And, of course, these are not the first set of statistics detailing major variations across the country – similar patterns are obvious in anything from wages to social care provision. For journalists pressed for a story, the north-south divide is a quick way of representing inequality in the UK.

It's not quite this simple in practice, however. There are affluent parts of the north of England, such as Chester and York, where people are healthier than in deprived southern towns such as Hastings. Major cities such as Manchester contain both rich and poor. More than anything, statistics such as these reflect economic differences between parts of the country, with income and work (or the lack of it) a key determinant of an individual's health.

There is truth behind the stories of southern affluence, and this differential is likely to get worse. Underlying these patterns are powerful economic drivers: the affluent and highly skilled are increasingly moving to London and its satellite cities in the south-east, where there are more economic opportunities for them. And as graduates drift south, there are fewer jobs elsewhere for those with low skill levels, whose employment is often in jobs which rely on proximity to those with high skill levels, such as waiting on tables or security.

Answers to these problems are more interesting than the reams of similar-looking statistics. Yet any obvious solutions would have been tried by now. Labour tried to address regional disparities by funding the regional development agencies, public bodies designed to stimulate enterprise and prosperity, with only limited success.

Between 1997 and 2007 only three parts of the UK saw output grow faster than the national average: Scotland and the south-east did well, but London was far and away the winner. If anything, Labour's spending may at least have kept the gaps from widening further. While public spending helped keep jobs and graduates in the north, cuts are likely to reverse this.

Where radical solutions have been suggested, they have been controversial. A famous Policy Exchange report from 2008 suggested that cities where the economy was poor should shrink, while those with thriving economies should be allowed to expand. Yet some poor presentation to the media led to an "abandon the north" message, controversy (including a lot of comment on these pages) and a rebuttal from David Cameron. The serious point – some parts of the country are growing in population while others are shrinking, and we need to do something about it – was lost.

So perhaps we're focusing on the wrong target. Differences between (or within) regions reflect differences between people, rather than differences between places. Where people live is important, but not as important as who they are; health is principally determined by personal issues, age and genetics, and where people live is only part of the story. So policies such as the pupil premium, which targets these differences between people, will be crucial. This isn't to say that place isn't important, but that stories focusing on the north-south divide are essentially about inequality between people. And the best way of targeting these differences sometimes aren't policies focused on place.